


Tales of A Retired Hero

by Rinienne



Series: Project Blue Fire [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Destroy Ending, Domestic, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Paragon Commander Shepard, Prostitution, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 12:24:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2581352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinienne/pseuds/Rinienne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The name of the collection is not what it seems to be. </i><br/>A collection of short stories based around <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/578488/chapters/1038024">Tides of Time</a> novel. <b>First two stories take place before the events of the novel and can be read as stand-alone fics.</b><br/><b>Story 1:</b> Let It Go. (Rated M) <i>Shepard is trying to cope with his guilt of destroying every synthetic. Help comes from the most unexpected place. Or, perhaps, he is simply going crazy.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales of A Retired Hero

**Author's Note:**

> **Table of Content:**  
>  **Story 1:** Let It Go. (Rated M) _Shepard is trying to cope with his guilt of destroying every synthetic. Help comes from the most unexpected place. Or, perhaps, he is simply going crazy._  
>  Story 2 - Name (M)  
> Story 3 - Bucket Load (T)  
> Story 4 - Slash Fiction (T)  
> Story 5 - Light of The Dying Stars (NC-17)  
> Story 6 - Are The Thresher Maw Babies... (M)  
> Story 7 - Cooking and Falling in Love for Dummies and Other Quarians (T)  
> Story 8 - Who Said There Will Be No More Adventures (T)  
> Story 9 - Tale of A Retired Hero (T)
> 
> The beginning of the story might seem odd, but bear with me. I also in a need for a beta for the short stories, preferably someone who is familiar with the [Tides of Time](http://archiveofourown.org/works/578488/chapters/1038024) novel.

It was a standard interrogation room in the Alliance Headquarters in Vancouver. Besides a single metal table and three metal chairs surrounding it, the room was empty. The walls in here were covered with white nonflammable plastic, which was making it look sterile and impenetrable, if not for a single mirror occupying a large portion of one of the walls.

Shepard couldn't see through the mirror, but he knew for sure it was double-sided and had another room behind its reflective surface.

Shepard sighed and fidgeted on the chair, the handcuffs on his wrists jingled and the sound of it  attracted his attention to his hands. "Is it really necessary?" he asked pointing at the cuffs, addressing a young woman sitting on the other side of the table.

The woman was wearing a standard alliance officer uniform -- a commander, according to the epaulets, same as him. She was gorgeous, with shoulder length red-wood hair and bright, green eyes. Her face was covered with a rich layer of freckles, her features angular, but at the same time soft and familiar, even if Shepard could've sworn he'd never seen her before.

The woman raised her eyes from a notebook laying before her on the table and looked over Shepard, a soft smile touching one side of her full lips. Her eyes slid to the handcuffs. "I dunno, you tell me," she said with a shrug.

Shepard shook his head, leaning to the backrest of the chair. It was uncomfortable, and the fact his hands were cuffed together was making it even worse. He spent at least half an hour in this room doing nothing, but sitting.

He thought about the handcuffs. He didn't have any weapons on him, didn't even have his omni-tool, neither he behaved aggressively in any way. In fact, he came here absolutely voluntarily, on his own accord, so the restrains did feel a little excessive.

On another hand, he returned from the dead for the second time, a year later after declared KIA. Considering Cerberus had once managed to create a clone of him, the reaction of the Alliance brass was understandable. They had already checked his DNA, his fingerprints, now they only needed to make him talk with people he used to serve with, to prove he knew each and every of them.

The thought about it should have made him nervous, excited, but he felt too exhausted to be emotional.

"So, are you ready to begin?" the woman in front of him asked extracting a pen from one of her pockets and starting to scribble something in the notebook.

Shepard eyed her with with a quiet groan. “I've been ready for at least an hour,” he replied slightly irritated.

The woman nodded, not tearing her eyes from the notebook, moving her hand over the flat surface of the paper, writing lines of text Shepard couldn't distinguish from where he sat. “So, you’re saying that the last year you’ve spent in the Bahak System, helping batarians to recover an artifact, because they saved your life after the explosion on the Citadel,” she stated flatly.

Shepard nodded. He remembered well waking up on a bed surrounded by several batarian doctors, remembered them asking him to bring stolen scrolls as a payment for saving his life. “Well, I wasn’t recovering the artifacts for the whole year,” he corrected, “I was mostly laying in bed unconscious. The mission for the batarians only took me a month.”

“And why didn’t you contact the Systems Alliance a month ago?” the woman inquired making some more notes in the notebook.

“I was asked to be subtle,” Shepard shrugged, “people who stole the scrolls didn’t know I was alive, wasn’t expecting me.”

“I see,” the woman nodded, “I hope you won’t be offended if we verify this information,” she said.

Shepard didn’t reply, shaking his head briefly. Next moment he heard a knock on the door next to the giant mirror.

“Come on in,” the woman called. The door opened and a batarian walked into the interrogation room.

The batarian was tall, taller than most of the members of his species, bulkier too. He wore a dark, human-style gray suit with a tie, which was very unusual to see. In fact, Shepard was sure he saw krogans wearing suits before, but never a batarian.

Still, even with the radical change of the clothing style, Shepard recognized him. It wasn’t because of his proportions, or markings on his head, it were his eyes familiar to the commander. Most of the batarians used a psychological distraction of looking at several spots simultaneously, but all four of the eyes of this one were concentrated on one point.

There was wisdom in those eyes, intelligence.

The baratian's name was Bosak and he was the one who asked for Shepard’s help a month ago.

“Please, sit down,” the red-haired woman gestured to the chair. She waited untill the baratian settled before continuing. “Here a man who claims to be Commander Shepard, savior of the galaxy. From his words you have found him deeply injured a year ago and provided medical attention, nursing him back to health. He spent the last year in the Bahak system. Is it true?” she asked

Bosak raised his eyes to look at Shepard. He watched him closely for some time, all four of his eyebrow muscles narrowing. “No, it is not,” he shook his head, closing his eyes.

Shepard almost jumped from his chair. He helped Bosak, and now he was trying to accuse the commander of lying. “Why are you doing this to me? I risked my life to get those scrolls back to your people!” he protested.

“You couldn’t spend the last year in the Bahak System,” Bosak shook his head, “you couldn’t do it, because the Bohak is no longer exist. It no-longer exist because of you, Commander Shepard!” he snapped, raising his voice at the end of the sentence.

Shepard’s eyes widened hearing it. Memories of an earth-like planet, of a small room and a bed where he was recovering were still fresh, but at the same time, other memories started to come back to him. An asteroid flying towards a mass relay, an attempt to contact the batarian government, to warn them about what was coming; the _Normandy_ jumping through the relay the last moment before everything exploded in a nova of bright blue light. Those memories were not solid, just flashes, like something happening so long ago Shepard barely could recollect.

“You killed us,” Bosak continued meanwhile, "you killed all of us. Women, children, families.”

Shepard’s heart was starting to beat faster. The memories about the destruction were solidifying in his mind. The Reapers arriving through the Alpha Relay, indoctrinated scientists, less than half an hour to prevent doctor Kenson from destroying the asteroid before it reached its destination. Shepard's entire body started to shake, the room around him started to spin. He tried to move away, but he forgot he was sitting on a chair and fell over, ending up on the floor.

Everything was a blur for several moments, then Shepard felt someone shaking his shoulder. “Commander, are you alright?” he heard the woman's voice. He opened his eyes, spotting the red-haired girl crouching in front of him, her expression concerned.

“What,” Shepard tried to speak, but his throat was too dry for it.

As if reading his mind, the woman offered him a small plastic bottle of water. Shepard had no idea where she got the bottle, he didn’t see it anywhere in the room and he perfectly knew that the pockets on the alliance uniform were too small to hide it. Still, he didn’t argue. He reached for the bottle, noting how much effort it took. The handcuffs on his wrists felt tighter around him, heavier.

The red-haired girl noticed his struggle and helped, opening the bottle and bringing it to Shepard’s lips. The cool liquid rushed down his throat bringing a long-longed relief to his tired body. It felt like the most refreshing water he’d ever tried.

“What happened?” he asked when he was finally able to regain his ability to speak.

The woman looked at him thoughtfully, before sighing, “I’m not sure I can tell,” she said. She helped Shepard back to his feet, before turning the overthrown chair back into its original position and helping the commander to sit down. “Are you ready to continue?” she asked.

Shepard looked at her shocked. What happened right now should’ve been a proof for the Alliance that he wasn’t real. It should’ve been a proof for Shepard that he wasn’t real, even if he felt otherwise. Millions of questions filled his mind. Shepard didn't know what was going on, but suspected he was starting to go crazy. They should've locked him, studied him, not continued the interrogation.

“Why?” Shepard asked.

The woman sighed, placing her hand on his shoulder and giving it a tight squeeze, “because we need to know,” she said before letting go of him and returning back to her own chair.

Shepard clenched his jaw. He wanted to argue, wanted to give up, because after everything that happened, he himself stopped to believe in the reality of his situation. Yet, he was tired of arguments. “Ok,” he nodded simply.

The woman nodded back and activated her omni-tool, inviting the next witness, but at this point Shepard found himself not even caring who it was going to be. He lowered his eyes staring blankly at the handcuffs, trying to collect his own thoughts, understand why he had two different memories about what happened to him.

The door to the interrogation room opened again. The commander raised his eyes and froze on the spot. There, in the doorframe, stood a figure made entirely of metal. There was a hole in the middle of the figure’s chest, covered partially with a piece of an old N7 armor. Instead of the head, the figure had a single flashlight.

“Legion,” Shepard whispered not able to believe his eyes, “but how?” No, it simply wasn’t possible. He saw Legion die. It happened even before the geth were wiped out together with the Reapers when he'd chosen to destroy all synthetic live.

“Shepard-Commander,” Legion said in his mechanical, monotone voice, tilting his flashlight head and stepping closer to the table untill he stopped right next to it.

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” Shepard asked looking at the geth. The question was left unanswered.

“Legion, isn’t it?” the woman inquired writing something in the journal.

“Yes,” the geth replied simply.

“You helped the commander on many occasions, you fought next to him, you can tell us if it is really him or not.”

Legion stared at Shepard for some time, several metal plates on his head moving. “It is him,” he finally nodded not turning away from the commander. “It is the human whom we bestowed our trust upon, the human whom we followed into the battle against the Reapers, the one who chose to kill us,” he added.

Shepard’s heart sank. His stomach started feel uneasy to the point of nausea. The world around him started to swing even more violently, a lump appeared in his throat making him unable to make a single sound in reply, while his eyes started to feel like they were full with sand. He tried to take a breath, concentrate, but instead of letting the air into his lungs, a quiet, almost indistinguishable sob escaped him.

“Commander!” he heard the woman calling him. He turned his head to look at her, but his gaze stopped behind her, on the mirror wall, which wasn’t a mirror anymore, but made of transparent glass. Behind the glass Shepard saw Anderson standing and looking at him, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” Shepard whispered, standing from the chair and falling to his knees,. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated through another quiet sob.

“I’m disappointed, son,” he heard Anderson voice from the other side of the glass, so clear like there wasn’t anything separating them, like he was standing right next to him.

“Why did we have to die?” Legion asked stepping closer to the commander.

From behind the geth another figure stepped out. It was also a familiar one -- the _Normandy_ ’s pilot appeared in front of Shepard, and the commander could see tears falling down his cheeks. “You killed her,” Joker said, “you killed the woman I loved!” he almost yelled.

Joker’s face twisted in pain and anger and he pulled out a pistol from the holster hanging on his side. Shapard thought about moving away, talking Joker out of it, but he realized that he didn’t care. If Joker wanted to shoot him, he would let him do it. After everything he’d done, he deserved death.

He closed his eyes, preparing for the pain to pierce his body, but it never happened. Instead, he heard a familiar sound of an omni-blade hitting flesh. He opened his eyes and saw the red-haired woman stabbing Joker’s body with the orange, glowing weapon. The pilot flinched several times, before sliding down the blade and falling to the ground, crumbling into a pile of ash in front of Shepard's eyes. A moment later even the ash was gone.

Shepard raised his eyes and looked at the woman who was staring angrily down at him, breathing hard. “I can’t stand your patheticness for another second,” she groaned, “stand to your feet!”

Her voice was loud and authoritative, and Shepard found himself listening to her. Heavier than any handcuffs had a right to be, he felt them pulling him down, but he ignored it, raising up from the ground

“That’s better,” the red-haired woman nodded, “now, we need to talk.”

Shepard blinked, “So, I am dreaming, am I?” he asked, before another memory flashed across his mind: the Catalyst, Citadel exploding, unbearable heat and pain enveloping him. “No,” Shepard shook his head, “I died... I died and it’s --”

“Oh, stop overdramatize the situation,” the woman interrupted him, “it’s not hell, or purgatory, or anything like that.”

“What is this place than?” Shepard asked.

The woman sighed, shrugging her shoulders, “I guess it will be easier to show, than try to explain,” she said, “come on, let’s go,” she gestured towards the door with her head and moved out of the room.

Shepard stood in the middle of the empty quarter, which by now he noted didn’t have the table, or the chairs, or even the glass window. He didn't know if he could trust the woman, but, unless he wanted to be stuck in the middle of an empty room forever, he had no other choice.

***

The door Shepard stepped out from was leading into a corridor. Illuminated by several foot and head lights and still somber, it looked like the hallway on the _Normandy_ ’s crew deck, but so long that Shepard couldn't see the end of it. What he saw instead, were the rows of identical metal doors. Some of the locks on the doors were lid green, others were red, locked.

When Shepard walked out of the room, he saw the woman standing in front of one of the unlocked doors. She turned her head towards him and smiled, “hurry up, or you’ll miss all of the fun,” she smirked.

Shepard only shook his head. He had no idea what fun she was talking about, because he didn’t feel like having any. He felt tired, annoyed, angry at himself and extremely guilty. Still, he walked towards the woman and the moment he approached her, the door opened.

Shepard felt the air around him shift as he, against his will, was pulled through the door. One moment they stood in the dim lights of the corridor and the next moment they were somewhere else, in the room which looked like a hospital ward. No, it didn’t look like one, it was a hospital ward.

In the middle of the room stood a bed with a man occupying it. A dozens of different tubes and pipes were coming in and out of his body, connected to several life supporting machines, each of them beeping steadily.

It was dark outside the window, most likely the middle of the night. The room itself was illuminated by a single lamp in the corner, but it was enough light to see the face of the man laying in the bed. His face was bruised and swollen almost to the point it was impossible to recognize, but Shepard saw that face too many times to be mistaken. Every day in fact, each time he was looking into a mirror.  Shepard’s jaw almost dropped as he recognized himself in the figure before him.

“You’re in a coma,” the woman who stood now next to him said, “fighting for your life. Tho, so far you haven't been doing a good job of it. You'd be dead if I hadn't interfered.”

“But, why?” Shepard asked, “why did you do it?”

“Why did I save you?” she hummed thoughtfully, “do you want to die?”

Shepard turned away from the woman and looked down at his own battered face. Another weave of regret enveloped him, making it almost impossible to breath. He still had no idea if he could trust her, had no idea who she was, but something snapped inside of him and he found himself spilling everything occupying his mind, “I caused so many deaths,” he sighed. “In the end I was given a choice --”

“Kill 'em, control 'em or rewrite the entire history of the universe by creating a new kind of creatures which would combine synthetic and organic life,” the woman finished for him, “and now you wonder if you made the right choice, if you even had the right to decide something like that.”

Shepard's head snapped back to the red-haired woman, "how... how do you know all of that?" he asked shocked.

The woman gave him a weak but warm smile, "I know it, because I was there," she said.

Shepard frowned. "Who are you?" he asked.

The woman's smile widened, she turned on her heel to face Shepard fully, "name is Jane, Jane Shepard, N7 operative, Commander in the Alliance Navy, First Human Specter, Savior of the Citadel and the Defeater of the Reapers, at your service," she saluted.

Shepard watched her, his jaw slowly dropping down in shock. For a second he waited for her to burst into laughter, to tell she was joking, but her face remained serious. Cheerful, but serious. "You aren't kidding, are you?" he asked, still astonished.

"Nope," Jane shook her head.

"But how?" he inquired.

Jane only shrugged, "It is simple," she said, "I'm your subconsciousness."

"Right," Shepard rolled his eyes. "Of course, my subconsciousness," he said sarcastically.

Jane sighed, "you don't believe? Come on then, I want to see you try rationalizing everything else you saw today."

They stood in silence for several moments looking at each-other. Shepard tried to do exactly what he was advised, tried to explain the events of the day, but without any result. The theory about him going crazy was on the top of his list, but in that case, conjuring a physical representation of his subconsciousness was exactly on the line of what he considered crazy.

Shepard thought about making a joke about how good he looked as a woman, but he didn't find any strength for humor, neither he was in the mood for it.

"All right," he nodded, "perhaps I believe you, what now?"

"Now I'm going to convince you to live," Jane said smiling.

Sheppard turned his head away from her, looking silently down at his own unconscious body. He could see his own chest rising and falling slowly, a monotone beeping from the left side was indicating the slow beats of his heart.

"What if I don't want to live?" he asked finally, disturbing the silence.

Jane's movement was fast. Shepard could barely detect it with his eyes before he felt a fist landing in the area of his solar plexus. He knew it wasn't his real body being hit, had no idea if it was his soul, or an astral projection, or a ghost of some sort, but the pain he felt was real enough to kick the wind out of his lungs. It took him several seconds to be able to draw a breath again, several more seconds it took for the world to stop spinning.

His female self looked so much smaller than him, but she had one hell of a punch.

"You're wrong," she groaned angrily at him, "and that is why," she said stepping slightly away from Shepard's view and pointing at a small chair standing in the corner of the room.

It was a pretty dark corner and it wasn't surprising that at first Shepard didn't notice the second figure in the room. It was a man, sleeping in the chair in a position that didn't look very comfortable. Even in the dark of the night, the faint light of the table lamp was revealing enough to see deep, dark circles under the man's eyes. His usual five o'clock stubble grew into something which was millimeters away from being called a beard. His hair, usually neatly organised, were messy and looked like they haven't been washed in several days.

"Kaidan," Shepard whispered stepping closer to the man, feeling his heart ache seeing him like that.

"He spends all of his free time here, with you," Jane said from somewhere behind Shepard and he could hear as much pain in her voice as he felt.

Shepard wanted to shake Kaidan's shoulder, to wake him up and tell that everything was going to be ok, but he couldn't. Shepard wasn't there, he laid on the bed on life support, dying. The thing standing above Kaidan now wasn't him, not really.

"I love this man, I love him more than anything," Jane said in a whisper, "but if you give up, we won't be able to see him again, and we will make him suffer."

Shepard couldn’t bring himself from looking away from Kaidan, more than ever he wanted to reach out, touch him. He tried to do it, but his hand went straight through his body, like in a some bizarre ghost movie.

"Or we can make him suffer if I stay," Shepard shook his head, "I'm a wreck, I will never be able to forgive myself for what I've done, I will only drag him down with me. He will be better without me, will find someone else, someone who will be able to take a good care of him."

Shepard honestly expected another punch, he didn’t even care if he’d get one, but Jane was standing silently, watching him with her head tilted to the side, “damn, you’re such an idiot,” she shook her head, before walking towards the commander and taking his hand, “let’s go, you need to see everything before making a decision,” she said.

With those words, she pulled him out of the hospital ward. Before leaving, Shepard spared one final glance at Kaidan and saw him stir on the chair. It didn’t look like he was waking up, but his breath pattern changed, and Shepard realized that Kaidan probably had a nightmare. He wished he could chase it away with a soft embrace and a kiss on a forehead, but the only thing he could do was to watch.

Shepard felt the air stiffening again as they passed through the door. It became more difficult to breath and the handcuffs pulled down with an almost unbearable weight. Still, he gritted his teeth and followed the subconscious version of himself towards the next unlocked door.

Before the door, Jane stopped and took a deep breath, “listen, I know what’s behind this door,” she said. Shepard could hear anger rising in her voice. “I can’t allow you to make a decision before you take a look, ok?”

The warning sounded suspicious and it made Shepard think he wasn't going to like the next part. Still, he nodded and watched Jane opening the door silently and disappearing from the view, before stepping into the darkness, following her to the other side.

A moment later Shepard found himself on a street in a middle of a city, which he recognized as Vancouver. It was the middle of the night and the moment he stepped on the flat concrete ground, the chilliness of the wind started to get under his skin. The area was lit by several street lamps around an empty road.

He stood before a motel. He couldn’t recognize the name of it, but it looked like the building was almost new. According to the number of the cars on the parking lot adjacent to the motel and the number of windows with the lights on, there weren’t many people staying in that particular establishment.

Shepard almost opened his mouth to ask where exactly they were, when something exploded in the air above his head flashing red before Shepard’s eyes. The commander’s first reaction was to duck away, to find something to hide behind, but merely half a second later, before he was able to move anywhere, a second flash of light and a roar of explosion echoed through the night sky. This time the flash was green. And then a blue, yellow, purple, and red again. Sheppard stopped half-way crouched to the ground, looking at one of the biggest fireworks he’d ever seen.

“It’s an anniversary today,” Jane explained with a soft chuckle from behind Shepard’s back, “three years after the fall of the Reapers.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow, straightening up, “doesn’t look that festive to me,” he said, not able to keep disappointment from his voice, “I mean, besides the firework.”

“It’s 'cause all of the festivities are further away, closer to the Downtown,” Jane explained, “but we aren’t here to see the celebration.”

“And what are we here for?” Shepard asked.

Jane motioned her head towards the motel entrance, “come with me,” she said and started to walk into the small, but clean yard surrounded by several buildings of the complex.

Shepard shrugged and followed her, catching up only when she was already in front of one of the staircases, leading to the higher floors. Together they walked up the staircase and into the third floor, before Jane turned and started to walk down one of the open hallways, with at least dozen of different doors leading into the separate rooms of the motel. Finally she stopped in front of one of the doors, took a deep breath and walked through it.

Shepard blinked, looking at the empty spot Jane was occupying only a second ago. Then he looked at the door. It was a simple wooden door, painted with dirty-gray paint and a silver number ‘131’ glued to its center. The door was closed, locked with a simple pass-card mechanism and looked very solid. He was starting to feel utterly confused, before remembering that both of them were something like ghosts in this world.

The commander saw a fair share of ghost vids in his life, he had a general idea how the whole incorporeality should work. Still, he stood in front of the wooden barrier separating him from the inside of the room a little unsure, afraid to collide with the wood by doing something wrong. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes taking a tentative step forward.

There was a small tingling sensation when his flesh touched the solid structure. It felt like a low level biotic energy enveloped his body. The sensation was gone as fast as it appeared and Shepard opened his eyes again, finding himself inside the motel room.

Divided into the three major sections, the place looked nice. It wasn't a five-star hotel, but it was clean and tastefully decorated, with all of the furniture matching not only each-other, but a fluffy looking rug on the floor and the curtains on the windows. Close to the living section of the suite, there was a kitchen where all of the appliances looked new, even if they weren't the most expensive models. The entire place looked more like a small apartment designed for one person, than a motel suite.

Further into the suite, there was another section, which lead to what Shepard suspected was a bedroom. The door leading there was open wide, and even while he couldn’t see anything but a very small corner of the bed from where he stood, Shepard could perfectly hear what was going on there.

“Oh, come on!” Shepard whispered, “I’m not going to peek into someone’s personal affairs,” he hissed.

“It’s not someone’s personal affairs,” Jane corrected, not even bothering with being quiet, “go take a look,” she said walking casually into the bedroom.

Shepard grunted in discomfort, but decided not to argue. He followed Jane with a sigh, but stopped on his tracks the second he walked into the room. There on the bed, were sprawled two people, their bodies moving together in an unmistakable manner. While it wasn't something Shepard was comfortable with observing, he knew well what kind of activities he was going to witness entering the bedroom. What he didn’t expect was for one of the participants to be Kaidan.

The biotic looked a little older than Shepard remembered seeing him the last time. There wasn’t many visual signs of aging on his face, but he had definitely gained more silver-gray hair around his temples. Still he looked incredible, all lean muscles rolling under his skin with every movement he made.

The woman underneath Kaidan was a perfect match for his visual appearance, gorgeous, with long legs, slim waist and full rounded breasts. Her face was young, appealing, even if she wore a little too much make-up for Shepard’s taste.

The whole picture looked like a good quality pornography vid, and if not for the object matter Shepard was sure he could find himself enjoying the view if he found something like that on the extranet. Instead, a weave on anger and jealousy rolled over him and he was forced to avert his eyes, trying to catch his breath and calm down.

He felt a corner of his mouth twitch, his jaw started to hurt because of how tight he was clenching his teeth. He did feel angry, but at the same time he understood that he had no right. It was the future, three years after he died. Yes, Kaidan and he used to be close, but he had no right to haunt the man because of it. He had to be happy his ex-lover managed to move on, to find someone else.

It only meant he didn’t have to worry about the only thing he truly did on his death door.

“Look at them,” Jane hissed next to him, “just look at them.”

Shepard didn’t want to look at them, he really didn’t, but he turned his eyes towards the bed again, watching the two move in almost perfect unison, watching their expression, concentrated and...

There was something profoundly wrong with the image Shepard saw. Kaidan’s eyes were closed the entire time and not a single time the biotic's lips touched the girl’s skin, his hands stayed on the girl's hips the entire time, like he didn’t want to touch anything else on her body.  His movements were also off. Even if Shepard had never seen him moving from the side, he could see how rough Kaidan was, his thrusts fast and shallow, like he was simply trying to get off, not caring about his partner.

The girl’s facial expression was also wrong, a pretend of a pleasure and not a real one. She was moaning, but it sounded so fake and unreal, that it made Shepard wince.

The entire act was cold, impersonal.

It ended only several moments later, Kaidan’s thrusts sped up, untill he stilled, a quiet grunt escaping his throat. For a split second Shepard could see a flair of biotics, but they dissipated before the woman had even a chance to notice them. Kaidan was holding his biotics in check. Shepard knew that it was taking him an effort to do so while having sex and costed him a lot of concentration he could’ve project on something else.

Kaidan moved away from the woman, rolling to the other side of the bed, discarding the condom and throwing it into a small trash can standing next to the bed. He opened a drawer of the bedstand extracting a cred-shit and throwing it into the blanket next to the girl, before turning away, to hide his face into the pillow.

The girl picked up the cred-chit and started to get up, picking up the clothes which laid all around the bedroom floor. When she was almost over with dressing, she turned to Kaidan and sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay the night?” she asked, “I’m not going to charge extra.”

Kaidan didn’t even turn his head to look at her, “please, just go,” he said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“You’re hurting,” she insisted and there was an honest concern in her voice.

This time Kaidan turned to look at her, there was anger on his face, but he managed to suppress the emotion. Kaidan was good at it. Most of the times. “I will be fine, I promise,” he said rubbing his temples, “still have half a bottle of that whiskey,” he shrugged.

The woman nodded, picking up the purse from the nightstand and hiding the cred-chit inside it. She turned around and exited the bedroom. A moment later Shepard heard the door into the suite opening and shutting.

Kaidan as it seemed heard it too. He reached for the bottle standing on the floor next to the bed, opened it and took a sip, wincing at the taste. He settled down on the bed, still naked, not bothering to neither pull on any clothes, nor cover himself with a blanket. He leaned his head on the bedrest and closed his eyes, taking another sip of brown liquid. A moment later Shepard saw tears starting to run down his cheeks.

The picture before the commander’s eyes made his stomach fleep in almost unbearable agony. More than anything else, he wanted to climb on the bed beside Kaidan, wrap his hands around him and whisper into his ear, that everything is alright, everything was going to be fine from now on, but he couldn’t do it. Instead he was forced to watch the misery of the man he loved, invisible, incorporeal.

“He will never be able to find the one,” Jane whispered beside him, “he spends all of his time working, helping people and caring about his parents, but he is always alone. Most of the time he manages to forget, to live his life, and pretend that everything is good, but some of the days, some of the days when he remembers what happened, when he remembers you, are the worst.”

Shepard felt his heart sink even deeper, but a question appeared in his mind, "you are a part of me, you can't know more that I do, so how can we possibly predict this?" he asked gesturing at Kaidan. "I don't quite remember being some sort of a prophet who could see the future."

"You're right," Jane nodded looking Shepard straight in the eyes, "I don't know more than you, but you do know enough."

Shepard frowned thinking about it. He tried to understand why would his subconsciousness decide to draw him a picture of his lover the way he saw it. He recollected every moment he spent with Kaidan, starting from their long conversations back on board of the SR1, and ending up with the way Kaidan had looked at him when he saw him the last time, before the commander ordered Kaidan to go and ran off into the transport beam back in London.

There had always been something in Kaidan's eyes when he looked at Shepard, even back when neither of them knew what it meant. No-one else looked at him that way. Shepard knew that even the strongest love could be forgotten given enough time, but after going through everything they went together, saving an entire galaxy, there was an absolutely different kind of connection between them. Shepard doubted that either of them could ever be able to find someone else to share that kind of bond.

“Alright, maybe I do believe you," Shepard said, "but do you really think I will be able to make his life better somehow?” he asked, “look at me, I'm a wreck. I'm not even sure I could look him in the eyes again after everything I've done.”

“If by everything you've done you mean saving the world,” Jane replied with a shrug, “then yeah, I do think so.”

“I committed a genocide!” Shepard snapped angrily, “I knew what I was doing, I knew the consequences and I chose to do it! I killed an entire race who stood on our side in the war, who trusted my judgement!” he paused, taking a deep breath and shaking his head, “I betrayed even one I cared about, I killed EDI,” he said in a calmer, sadder voice.

“Oh, don’t be such a cry-baby,” Jane replied waving her hand in a gesture of dismissal, “let’s go, I will show you how wrong you are.”

She spared one last glance towards Kaidan and left the room. Shepard followed her without looking back, he wasn’t sure he could bear even one more short glance at the picture of misery he was to blame for.

This time, besides the shift of the air and the slight change in temperature and illumination, when Shepard stepped back into the corridor he knew by now was just another creation of his own mind, he noticed the lights on some of the doors changing their colors. Both of the doors they visited locked behind them, while some doors with previously red lights turned green.

“Let’s go, it’s quite a stride till the next destination,” Jane said as she started to walk down the endless tunnel of their shared consciousness.

Shepard followed his other self looking at the doors they were passing, “what is behind all of them?” he asked tentatively as they walked.

“Our memories,” Jane shrugged, “We could take a peek on the most juicy ones if you want,” she added sounding suddenly excited, "like remember that one time when Kay bent you over your own working desk and --"

Shepard coughed pointedly, interrupting Jane, "thanks, but no," he said dully.

"Ah, pity," she said wistfully, shaking her head, "that was a good one."

Shepard rolled his eyes, "I don't feel comfortable talking about my sex life in such details even with my closest friends," he said.

"Did you forget that we are the same person?" Jane reminded, "you're a basically talking to yourself right now."

"And why won't you understand then how difficult it is for me, how guilty I am for the things I've done, things that I had no right to do," Shepard asked.

Shepard's other self stopped walking and looking at the commander sharply. “Like hell you didn’t have the right,” she groaned, “and deep down you know it, you're just too stubborn to admit it. You went through some serious shit to save everyone, lost friends you held dear, convinced races of the galaxy to stand together against the common foe. You was the only one who made it to the end, you had every right to make this decision.”

“Don’t you think it was the wrong one? I mean, every synthetic was wiped. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do, but now...” his voice trailed off.

“Now it seems like the only thing and you know why?”

“Why?”

Jane turned away from Shepard and continued to walk. “Because,” she said, not even looking at him. “Just think about what would happen if you'd have chosen anything else. I mean, controlling the Reapers? Becoming a new catalyst, a freaking god? How long would it take you before you started to see things differently? You would see every person you knew die, generations changing, ages passing. Don’t you think that one day, seeing races of the galaxy starting new wars, building new machines, which raise against them wiping each-other wouldn’t change you mind about the necessity of the Reapers' existence?”

Shepard opened his mouth to protest, to say that he would never do something like that, but not a single sound escaped him. He imagined himself alone, stuck somewhere with an entire flotilla of the Reapers watching the galaxy raise from ashes, evolve, watching ages pass, generations die. To tell the truth, he had no idea if it wouldn’t cause him to lose his humanity, to become distant, trying to save the life in the galaxy in general and not lives of particular individuals he knew. “And what about the synthesis?” he asked instead.

“Imagine someone came to you out nowhere and said they were going to change who you were, to rewrite your entire existence, turn you into a half-machine, and not only adding some cybernetics into you, but change your thinking patterns too, would you agree to that?” she asked.

Shepard thought about it for a moment, then shook his head, “no, I don’t think so,” he replied.

“Now imagine they’d do it without your consent,” Jane continued, “there are billards of people in the galaxy, proud of who they are. Many of them would rather die, than become rewritten. If there was an option you had no right to choose, that was it."

Shepard nodded yet again. He had never thought about it this way, unless not on the level above his subconsciousness. Jane's argument made him feel less guilty about what he'd done, more confident with himself, with his choices. It felt like someone took a heavy weight from his shoulders, making it easy to stand, to breath.

“Anyway, here we are,” Jane smiled stopping in front of another door. She touched the holographic lock panel and the door opened with a quiet hiss.

Shepard's mood improved a little and this time he didn’t even think before stepping into the next room.

The air shifted around him even more violently than the first two times. A strong feeling of vertigo, followed suit and he found himself falling down into the black emptiness. He almost started to panic, to think it was a mistake, but then he realized he wasn’t actually falling, but floating in the air like if there wasn’t any gravity.

Jane appeared next to him in the same floating state, placing her hand on Shepard’s shoulder. “Look at what you have done, on what you have really done,” she said.

Images started to materialize in front of Shepard’s eyes. The first one was of the Normandy’s bridge, which looked half-ruined, like they just crushed somewhere. From the cracked observation port, Shepard could see sunlight coming into the cockpit, illuminating powered down panels and boards.

In the pilot chair Shepard saw Joker. He sat there not moving, leaning on the backrest and Shepard couldn’t understand if the pilot was sleeping or unconscious, just that he was definitely alive, breathing steadily. On the co-pilot chair Shepard saw EDI, who wasn’t moving either. Shepard knew that EDI didn’t need to sleep, neither she was falling unconscious after heavy impacts. The AI was down.

“Joker, do you hear me?” Shepard hear Kaidan’s familiar, but staticky voice from the secondary intercom, the one which worked separately from the ship's systems. “I need a status report, what is going on? Joker?”

The pilot groaned and opened his eyes. He tried to move, but his face twisted in pain and he wrapped his hand around his left side. “Damn it,” Joker groaned, then with his other hand he reached a small switch under the main panel. “We crashed, have no frigging idea where, I think I broke a rib. Or most of them,” he groaned in pain again, “EDI, what is the system’s status?” Joker asked turning his head towards the AI’s robotic body. EDI didn’t respond. “EDI?” Joker called again, “EDI!” he stood from his chair and moved to her side. It was noticeable how difficult it was for him to move, but Joker ignored his discomfort. He crouched in front of his girlfriend, taking her smaller hand in his, “oh no, EDI, no, talk to me, please! EDI!”

Shepard felt another sting of pain and regret. The beam fired from the Crucible destroyed every single synthetic being, and EDI was one of them. He lowered his head, not to look at the image before his eyes, but felt a sharp elbow gently pushed into his ribs.

“Watch closer,” Jane smiled, “look.”

Shepard raised his head again, in time to see robotic body stir. EDI opened her eyes and looked at Joker with a smile. “Hello Jeff,” she said, “how are you today?”

“Oh, EDI,” Joker shook his head, smiling back at the AI, “never better,” he said.

EDI raised a hand and looked at it, “it worked,” she said like if she was surprised.

“What worked?” Joker asked.

“The Crucible,” EDI explained, “it fired a some sort of virus which was destroying every synthetic life in the galaxy, traveling from one mass relay to another.”

“But you’re alive,” Joker pointed out, “what happened?”

“I had a theory,” EDI said, “that the virus wouldn’t affect the synthetics who were powered down, because it is impossible to affect a computer with a virus when it is off," she paused then, looking around the cockpit, something akin regret reading clearly on her metallic face, "I couldn’t shut myself down without cutting off the _Normandy_ 's systems. I'm sorry, I panicked.”

The panels around the two of them came into life, casting a faint orange light on their faces. “Adams is speaking,” Shepard heard the voice of the head engineer through the digital intercom.

“Great,” Kaidan replied, “what is your status?”

“Restarted the core engine, everything seems to be working more or less,” Adams replied.

“There is, ugh, a hole in the bilge,” Kenny added through a grunt of pain, “and I think I broke a leg,” then Kenny started to laugh, “guys, we did it!” he said, “we made it!”

“All right, Tali, Adams, I need you to estimate the damage and the time of the repairs --”

There was a quiet commotion on the background interrupting Kaidan's orders and a second later Chakwas’ voice was heard over the intercom, “Major, you will return here immediately and let me treat the wound!” she commanded. “And someone, help Mr. Donnely and Mr. Moreau into the medbay.”

The conversation lasted for a few more minutes, but Shepard was only listening to it half-ear. it looked like every member of the crew had made it. There were some injuries among them, but the most serious of them consisted of concoctions and broken bones.

At the same time he wasn't sure if anything he saw was more than a trick of his own imagination. “There is no way I could know about this,” Shepard said.

"Oh, but you know every single detail," his female self smiled, "you've got many visitors in the the med ward in the months you spent there. Each of them made it a sort of priority to keep you in the loop," she explained.

"So," Shepard concluded returning his attention again to the surroundings, “we saved them,” he said, unable to hold back a smile, “we saved them all.”

“Yeah,” Jane agree, "we did."

The image before Shepard’s eyes started to shift again, the scenery changing, appearing one after another in a steady stream. He saw people he didn’t know, a couple who just found their child unharmed among the debris of a half-ruined building. The kid started to run towards his parents, clenching to his mother as he reached her, before all three of them started to cry relieved to see each-other again.

Another vision showed him a soldier helping his injured brother in arms to walk down the street. There were many torn bodies of husks laying around and even one of a brute, but two men seemed unimpressed by the surroundings. The injured guy had his palm pressed against his bleeding hip, but smiling, “so, ready to hit a bar?” he asked his friend.

“I think a hospital would be a good starting place for you,” the other man replied, but smiled none the less.

"Party-pooper," the injured soldier sighed and both of them started to laugh.

An image after that showed Tessia. A group of asari commandos were laughing and hugging each-other. Two of them grinned and started to kiss, paying little attention to anyone around. Instead of askew glances of disapproval and commentaries about wasted genes, they received an another wave of cheers and applause from the groupmates.

A turian and a krogan soldiers stood above a wide field of debris. The turian pointed at something in the distance and moved towards it, kneeling in front of a large slide of concrete wall, before he started to lift it. A moment later, he was joined by the krogan and together they were capable of moving the block out of the way, revealing a figure laying underneath it. The turian activated his omni-tool, scanning the body.

“Alive, stable,” he reported.

The krogan noded and fired a flair into the sky and the next second Shepard was able to hear the sirens of an ambulance kodiak. The krogan and the turian meanwhile moved to another spot, continuing to search for more survivors.

“If only several months ago, someone would tell me that I will work with a turrian of my own free will, I’d slice their throat,” the krogan chuckled. “You’re tougher than you look, so it's a plus,” he added.

“And you’re a little less brutal than I could ever imagine,” the turian nodded.

They walked for a little while in silence, before the turian soldier turned and offered krogan his hand. The krogan looked at the hand suspiciously for a second, before a smile crossed his face and he accepted it, giving it a shake.

“Do you see it now what you’ve accomplished?” Jane asked Shepard.

Shepard wanted to reply, but he couldn’t. He felt tears appear in his eyes, blurring out the images before him. He raised one of his hand to his face to wipe the tears away and noticed that the handcuffs were no-longer abstracting his movements. They jingled quietly one last time, before both of their locks clicked and the handcuffs fell to the ground.

Shepard felt a hand landing on his shoulder and turned to see his female version smiling, "come on, we have one last place to visit," she said.

Shepard nodded and looked around for the door they arrived from, but saw that they were already back in the endless corridor of his mind. He wanted to ask how did they manage to return without him noticing it, but realized that they probably didn't even need the doors to travel from one destination to another. He probably didn't need it to be a corridor in the first place.

"Where to now?" Shepard asked, feeling curiosity spike inside him. For the first time since he appeared in here, he'd found himself really wanting to see what else Jane wanted to show him.

"You'll like it," his subconscious self promised smiling wide and taking a hold of Shepard's hand, starting to tug him further down the hallway.

The door they stopped in front of opened the moment they approached. A soft light soaking though it, reached Shepard's skin touching him with its warmth. Without even thinking, Shepard stepped through and found himself in a middle of an apartment.

It wasn't a big appartment, at least not in comparison with the one he had on the Citadel. A small entryway room was leading into a single living room no bigger than forty-forty five square meters. A wall was separating the living room with the kitchen and the dining room combo, but the opening leading there was large enough to see the most of it.

A pleasant smell of cooked meat was coming from the kitchen and Shepard could hear someone moving around, but he couldn't tell who it was from where he stood.

One wall of the living room was almost nonexistent, replaced by a floor to ceiling window leading into a balcony. It was an evening and the light of the day was slowly starting to fade away, but even then Shepard recognized the view on the English Bay, which made the commander grin.

Shepard had never been into that apartment, but he realized that he knew it. A distant memory about Kaidan's voice telling him all about the place he got from the Alliance not so long ago, played in his head.

"It's not his childhood home, but when he was given a few options on where to move, this one was the absolute winner," Jane supported looking around the place. "Damn, Alliance sure knows how to reward their heroes," she added in awe.

"And it's in the part of the city which was almost untouched too," Shepard added.

Jane turned around, smiling at him, "see, now you remember what he was talking to you about," she said.

Shepard didn't really remember much, just a few bits and pieces. He started to recollect Kaidan talking a lot to him, but most of what he'd been saying was too fuzzy and indistinguishable. The part about the apartment for some reason felt a little clearer than anything else.

Shepard heard the door in the entryway room open and close again, heavy footsteps coming from its direction. He turned around to see Kaidan taking off his boots and kicking them unceremoniously into the corner of the room, a trace of anger crossing his features. He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath, then picked the abused footwear putting it on a shelf, before stomping into the living room and flopping onto a couch, covering his face with the palms of his hands.

Another sound of footsteps came from the kitchen, but those ones sounded a little off, like the person approaching had difficulties walking. Shepard looked in the direction of the kitchen and saw himself appearing in the doorway.

The dream-conjured version of Shepard was dressed casually in a simple pair of dark-blue sweats and a black tee. His hair was grown and messy, sticking into every direction like if he didn't bother using a comb since he'd woken up. He moved slowly, a cane in his hands used to support his weight. At the same time the expression on his face reminded Shepard of a puppy who was overly happy too see his owner returning home. It looked somewhat ridiculous, but Shepard couldn't bring himself to judge his dream-made copy.

Seeing Kaidan sprawled on the couch, the expression on the dream Shepard's face changed, turning into a worried one. "Kay?" he called continuing to slowly move towards the other man, "are you alright?" he asked as he reached the couch, leaving his cane to stand next to its side and carefully taking a sit next to Kaidan.

Kaidan moved his hands away from his face and sighed, "no, I'm so not ok," he said and Shepard realized that Kaidan had a migraine, recognized the expression of pain on his face.

The dream Shepard raised an eyebrow, "your students?" he asked moving closer to Kaidan, allowing the other man to sink into his embrace, hiding his face in the crook of the dream Shepard's neck.

"Mggmm," Kaidan managed to reply, "Erika," he said like it supposed to mean something, but neither Shepard, nor his dream version seemed to recollect the name, "one girl, just one girl ruined the score of an entire group of twenty," he mumbled.

The dream Shepard lifted his hands, placing them on Kaidan's head, starting to gently massage his temples, a motion which made Kadian moan into the dream Shepard's neck. "A migraine?" the dream Shepard asked concerned.

"Yeah," Kaidan replied, "a bad one too."

The dream Shepard activated the omni-tool on his wrist, turning every light in the apartment off, leaving them to sit on the couch in half-darkness with only soft rays of the setting sun faintly illuminating their silhouettes. "I'm gonna go get you some pills and the dinner so we could eat here," the dream Shepard proposed as he started to slowly untangle himself from Kaidan, reaching for his cane.

"You're the best," Kaidan said letting the other man go. Before the dream Shepard had a chance to fully get up, however, Kaidan catched his hand, "I can still help you with that," he said, his intonation demanding even if his voice sounded tired.

It looked like the dream Shepard wanted to protest, but changed his mind, "fair enough," he nodded with a smile. Then his grin turned a little mischievous, "just one more thing," he said leaning closer to Kaidan, "I'm still at disagreement with the fact my fiancé returned home and I haven't kissed him yet."

"Mmm, you're right, we should totally fix it," Kaidan replied closing the remaining distance between them, catching the dream Shepard's lips in a slow, gentle kiss.

Shepard own heart skipped a beat. He stood in the middle of the living room, watching himself and Kaidan, his eyes wide. Fiancé. His dream double just called Kaidan his fiancé, which meant they not only lived together but decided to get married. His entire body shivered as he thought about it.

"I don't quite remember Kaidan talking about _that_ ," Jane said with a whistle elbowing Shepard, "it means, that it is something you personally just dreamed up."

The commander gulped, feeling a weave of heat raising up his neck and cheeks. Perhaps it was something he dreamed up, but it was a rather nice dream. Marrying Kaidan. Making him his husband. Officially declaring their relationship and belongingness to each-other to the rest of the world.

It felt right.

He continued to watch his dream self and Kaidan heading to the kitchen, their movements slow not to strain the old injuries in their bodies. Kaidan, still in pain from his own migrene, helped to support the dream Shepard who seemed to have problems with putting any weight on one of his legs. The dream Shepard didn’t looked thrilled about it, but he accepted the assistance.

They were not old men, but they were old soldiers. Each of them had enough scars, old and new, physical and emotional, to perhaps never be able to heal fully.

Kaidan knew Shepard as almost no-one else did, saw each and every his scar and yet he continued to be there for him. Now it was the time for Shepard to be there for Kaidan.

The decision was made. Shepard still felt a tingle of guilt tugging him down, but he resisted. He'd done a lot of things he wasn't proud of, but perhaps it was the time to also look at the things he'd done right, to let go of the guilt and face a new, better future.

The room around Shepard started to crumble into dust, his body was pulled up into the air almost violently. He gasped, trying to take a hold onto something solid, but there wasn't anything to grab into around him. "Jane!" he cried out, reaching up for his other self whom he could no longer see.

"Oh, don't be such a cry-baby," he heard an echo of her disconnected voice somewhere near him. "I'll see you on the flip sides."

***

Shepard had a dream. He remembered some bits and pieces of it, some general impressions, but the longer he tried to concentrate on it, the farther away the dream was slipping. He opened his eyes to a steady sound of machinery somewhere nearby him. His head felt fuzzy and the images before his eyes were swimming, making him feel disoriented and lost, unable to tell where he was.

He tried to move, but momentarily regretted it as even a slight motion echoed with dull pain in his entire body. He tried to take a deep breath, to calm his beating too fast heart, but the inhale made his throat itch, his eyes tear. His mouth was so dry, it felt like someone poured a glass of sand into it.

He started to panic then, the beeping of the machinery increased its tempo to match his heartbeats. Any unsuccessful attempt to move only added into his overall feeling of dread. Someone stirred next to him and a moment later, Shepard heard a surprised gasp, "oh god, Shepard," he heard a familiar voice followed by a sound of an omni-tool being activated, "Miranda, he woke up!" Kaidan said.

"Kh..." Shepard tried to speak, but his lips could barely function.

"Shhh, Shepard, calm down," Kaidan insisted, his voice closer to him now, almost whispering into the commander's ear. Moving his gaze to the side, Shepard could see his lover's face towering above him, still a little blurry, but recognizable.

Shepard didn't want to calm down, but the voice had a soothing effect on him. A touch of warm fingers on his hand added up to Kaidan's message, allowing him to relax, to feel safer. He assessed his surroundings yet again and realized he was in a hospital of some sort. His body was connected to a life support. He was still able to feel pain pretty much everywhere, but it was dulled, distant, like his brain was registering it only faintly.

He was alive and it was something Shepard didn't expect to happen.

He wondered what happened after he chose to destroy the Reapers, what happened to his ship, to his friends. He knew Kaidan was here, next to him, he heard him calling Miranda, but the rest of the world's fate was still a mystery to him.

A muffled sob turned his attention back to his surroundings. He looked at Kaidan again and saw tears running down his cheeks, but the other man was smiling at the same time. "Everything is alright," Kaidan said through the tears. His fingers made their way to Shepard's face, caressing gently, barely touching the skin of his cheekbone. It felt a little painful, like if he touched a bruise, but it was comforting none the less. "Everything is going to be fine, I promise," he added.

Maybe Shepard still didn't know what happened, maybe he still was a little afraid of waking up and unable to move, or think clearly, but if Kaidan promised everything to be fine, Shepard believed everything was going to be fine.

 

 


End file.
